An Enchanted Evening: A Regency Tale
by CassandraLowery
Summary: Isabella and Edward dance together at the most sumptuous ball of the London Season. By courting Isabella openly during the Season, Edward has made his intentions known, and Isabella returns his regard. But during this enchanted evening, obstacles to their bright future mount. Will Edward win fair lady by the end of the evening? AH, BPOV
1. Chapter 1

**One Enchanted Evening: A Regency Edward & Bella Story**

**By Cassandra Lowery**

**Completed April 30, 2014**

_**I started writing this story as a dream sequence in Chapter 12 of **_**Only by Moonlight. **_**But it began to take on a life of its own, so much so that I had to remove it from the chapter and write a different dream/nightmare for Bella. But this story had a sweet series of misunderstandings, so I kept writing, expanding the story eventually into six parts and nearly 10,000 words. Although I had originally written the dream to parallel Edward's 1918 real life, I moved this one into the Regency time period, the time of Jane Austen's writings. **_

_**I revised this story into an original fiction story for Watpad's Story Contest, but once I posted it there and started re-revising it back into a fan fic, I found myself adding a few extras here and there. So if you read the OF story on Wattpad, know that this version is a little different, and I plan to add a little more to Part V which was rather short. **_

_**The good news is that this little gem is all written (except for a few extras here and there), so I'll post twice weekly until all six parts/chapters are up—Wednesdays and Weekends (probably Saturday evenings). **_

_**I hope you will enjoy this little tale. It is unbeta'ed and un-pre-read…except in its infancy by my dear ladylibre when it was part of ObM and was taking over the chapter, rather like kudzu…. ;)**_

_**And yes, I'm still plugging away on **_**Only by Moonlight. **_**Chapter 14 is roughed out, so it will be going to the lovely ladylibre this weekend after a preliminary revision….**_

_**Now, after this gargantuan A/N, to the story…. **_

**PART I**

Dreamily I relaxed into his arms—into Edward's arms—as he whirled me across the candlelit ballroom. My midnight blue gown flared around me beautifully with every turn and twirl of the intricate waltz, still considered somewhat scandalous here in London because the couples danced so closely, so intimately, with one another. Smiling widely, I gloried in my proximity to Edward, my frequently clumsy feet never hesitating as I followed my partner's confident leading.

The most lavish ball of the Season was being held at the Earl and Countess of Allanham's townhouse. Anyone who was anyone coveted an invitation. And through my Aunt Jane Carville's social connections, she had been able to obtain one of the treasured cards which had graced the mantel of the blue parlor since its arrival, announcing to all visitors that we had been invited to attend the exalted engagement.

Pushing all other thoughts out of my mind, I tilted my head, smiling up at Mr. Edward Masen, Esquire, as he grinned back almost mischievously. But too soon the orchestra drew the waltz to a graceful close, the dancers twirling to a stop and the murmur of low conversation filling the beautifully-mirrored ballroom as the gentlemen returned their partners to the chairs along the edges of the room before seeking fresh faces and feet for the next set of dances.

As we vacated the center of the ballroom, Edward offered me his strong forearm which I gratefully accepted after the exertions of the dance. Extending my fan to waft cooler air toward my face, I could feel my face glowing pink due to the exercise, the heat of the crowded room, and my excitement at Edward's kind attention.

"Would you prefer to step out on the balcony for a moment, Miss Swan?" he asked, noticing my need for fresh air.

"Thank you, yes, Mr. Masen," I replied with a small smile. During this, my first London Season, I was being presented by my Aunt Jane, Lady Carville, sister to my father, Sir Charles Swan. Fortunately, I had become a moderate success thus far; of the several suitors who vied for my attentions, Mr. Edward Masen was by far my preference. Although not titled, his family was ancient and well-known for their philanthropy. In addition to a fashionable townhouse in London, they owned a large estate in Yorkshire, Brandon Abbey, home to the Masen family since the thirteenth century. The only son and heir, Edward Masen was already, at age 24, known as an astute and innovative landowner as well as a champion of several worthy causes as he carried on the unspotted reputation of the benevolent Masen family.

Edward Masen was also nephew to Carlisle, Lord Cullen, and his lovely wife, Esme, his mother's sister, who were known for their efforts in halting the slave traders from kidnapping the peoples from Africa. Not content to only work legislation through the House of Lords here in England, Lord and Lady Cullen were at present in America, campaigning for similar laws to be enacted in the United States now that we were at peace with our former colonies once again. Despite the Southern States' refusal to listen to Lord Cullen's appeals, he and his wife still possessed great hope for the worldwide abolishment of the slave trade. Edward admired his uncle and aunt greatly, often discussing their work with me at some of the previous parties and balls we had attended over the course of the Season.

Despite his abhorrence of the crowded and polluted city, my father, Sir Charles, had traveled to Town earlier in the Season to meet my suitors. As expected, he had taken a decided liking to Edward, informing me that he would unreservedly approve our match should Mr. Masen approach him for permission to marry. Even now I tried to quell my excitement over the possibility of my bright future with Edward, forcing my mind and heart back into this moment in which I gloried in my position on his arm.

Escorting me toward the open French doors which led outside onto a second-story balcony, Edward grinned more widely as I gratefully breathed in the cool air (as best I could as my corset, which although extremely figure-flattering, prevented my taking deep breaths). Deftly he navigated the crowds, guiding me to the railing of the long balcony overlooking the most beautiful gardens I had ever viewed. Despite the fact that they were lit only by the shimmering illumination of the nearly-full moon and by the brightness streaming from the windows of the mansion, the gardens were simply exquisite in the muted light.

As we gazed over the meticulously-shaped topiary bushes, the varied roses with their sweet-spicy scents, and the lawns undulating toward a small lake, I smiled in utter contentment. Such beauty always awed me into silence as I absorbed the sights before me.

"Miss Swan?" Edward's voice was tight, tense; I glanced up at him, confused by the tone of his voice.

His green eyes burning fiercely into mine, his beautiful jaw clenched and his hand, as he took mine, trembled ever so slightly. Confidence in almost every situation was one of the many qualities I admired in Edward, and its absence alerted me to the importance of this conversation.

"Yes, Mr. Masen?" I whispered, barely able to speak as his eyes filled with deep emotion.

"Miss Swan," he repeated, swallowing hard. My heart melting in sympathy, I lightly squeezed his gloved hand with mine in a comforting gesture. Looking up into his shadowed face as he towered above me, his warmth enveloped me despite the fact that we were not touching skin-to-skin, and immediately I became as breathless as I had been during our waltz.

His gaze mesmerizing me, he took a deep, calming breath. "While propriety dictates that I speak to your father before I address you, I must know," Edward's words were rushed, his cheeks flushed, yet his eyes were focused and strangely calm as he gazed down at me. "I love you, Miss Swan, and I wish to approach your father to ask permission to marry you. But I must know if such a step would be pleasing to you, for if it is not, I would never desire to make you unhappy in any way." He swallowed hard again. "Do you…do you wish me to pursue this conversation with your father?"

The fierce light in his eyes diminishing, he ground out the next words between clenched teeth. "Or do you wish us to remain as we are, more than acquaintances yet not quite friends, so that a different gentleman of your preference may apply to your father for the honor of your hand?"

Edward turned his gaze to the gardens thirty feet below us, and while he tried to mask the emotions racing through him, the way in which he painfully tightened his grasp on my gloved hand and the tick that throbbed in his temple revealed the depth of his feelings.

Needless to say, I was delighted beyond words that Mr. Edward Masen, Esquire, among the most eligible bachelors of our social circle, was asking to marry me.

But my happiness was not based on his handsome features, his manly figure, his position in society, his ancient family line, or his financial worth. Although these attributes were nice to have, it was Edward's heart that I coveted most. His innate fairness, his goodness, his humor, his compassion, his intelligence—these were the qualities that drew my heart to his, and I was thrilled to no end that Edward loved me.

_Me. _

My lips curved into a smile so joyous that I could barely contain myself. But my response was unseen by Edward as he kept his gaze trained on the beautiful gardens spread below us, his hand gripping mine tightly as he apparently dreaded my reply.

"Mr. Masen," I started, but I could not keep my voice steady. Still refusing to look at me, he nodded his head in encouragement for me to continue.

"I-I do not have the w-words," I whispered breathlessly, trembling with excitement and joy.

Dropping my hand as if it had burned him, Edward responded quickly, his voice monotone yet curt, "You need not bother, Miss Swan. I understand completely. I wish you all health and happiness in the future." Still refusing to look at me, he bowed abruptly, as courtesy dictated, and spun on his heel, rapidly covering the length of the balcony and starting down the rod-iron spiral staircase that led to the gardens below.

My head swimming with the abruptness of Edward's exit, I pressed my palms against the restraining corset which would not allow me to take the deep breaths needed to clear my mind. _Blast the ridiculous thing! What I would not do to burn every single whalebone in my wardrobe!_

But obviously I had a much more problematic matter before me.

Edward had misunderstood me. He must have thought that I was refusing him.

But refusing his proposal was the very last thing I wanted.

_**I hope that you'll enjoy this little tale. I've always loved the Regency time period, especially when I discovered Georgette Heyer's fluffy romances set in this time when I was a young teen. I tried to recapture some of the spirit of Heyer's strong heroines and courageous gentlemen; I hope that this Isabella and this Edward suffice. **_

_**Thank you for reading! And please let me know what you think!**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**An Enchanted Evening, **_**PART II**

Taking as deep a breath as I could against my tightly-laced ribcage, I determined to follow Edward, moving as quickly as I could in my restricting formal attire and high-heeled slippers toward the staircase down which he had disappeared. Using one hand to grip the curved iron banister and the other hand to hold up my skirts, I raced down the tightly-spiraled stairs, afraid to raise my eyes from the curving steps for fear I would lose my tenuous balance.

Breathless, I finally reached level ground and glanced quickly about the gardens laid out in perfect symmetry around me.

_Where could he have gone? _

Gathering my skirts so that I could keep myself from tripping on the flounced hem, I ran lightly down a side path, well away from the bright lights streaming from the house that would reveal me to the guests above as I (quite improperly) sought Mr. Edward Masen. Chasing after a young man would definitely be unseemly, and to be seen doing so would be disastrous to my reputation.

But catching up with Edward so that I could explain my response was imperative—and well-worth the very real danger of being witnessed by the most influential members of society present at the ball tonight.

Reaching the end of the path, I was grateful for the moonlight that illuminated the extensive gardens and the glimmering lake before me, for without the silvery light, I would never have seen Edward seated on a bench beneath the spreading branches of a weeping willow near the lake's edge. Gathering my skirts again, I raced toward him, ignoring the stitch in my side and the frantic but shallow breaths my corset forced me to take.

Leaning forward on the bench, his head in his hands, Edward Masen was the picture of dejection. My heart nearly broke with the sadness of knowing that I had caused this beautiful man such grief.

He could not have missed the sounds I made as I approached him at a run—the grinding of my high heels on the gravel path, the rustle of my skirts, my loud and unseemly gasps for breath. But he seemed completely removed from his surroundings—as if nothing of this world could matter to him again.

As I drew within a few feet of his slumped figure, I released my skirt to reach toward him, but I promptly caught my high-heeled slipper in one of my flounces. With clumsiness extreme even for me, I catapulted myself right into Edward's arms, landing across his lap on my stomach with a very unladylike "Ooof!"

For a very long moment I could only blink rather stupidly before I fully realized my very embarrassing position. I had fallen prone, the impact of my corseted front against his muscular thighs knocking the wind from me, rendering me incapable of breath and speech as black spots swam before my eyes.

"Miss Swan? Are you all right, Isabella?" Edward's voice was frantic with worry despite my awkward position.

Noisily I gasped in a shallow breath—all the blasted corset would allow—as I tried to remain conscious, fighting the faintness that accompanied the lack of air in my lungs.

Thankfully, Edward carefully turned me over so that I was reclining across his lap in a much more proper (and far less embarrassing) arrangement. At least in this position, I could breathe more freely, the black spots disappearing from my vision after a moment, but a small whirl of dizziness arrived with the realization that his face hovered mere inches above my own.

Finally I drew breath enough to start apologizing in a frantic half-whisper. "I-I-I am s-so sorry—so clumsy—I cannot believe that I—I apologize, Edward—no, I mean, Mr. Masen—I had to—no, I mean—I stumbled—well, obviously—but I—"

A finger pressing into my lips stopped my incoherent babblings before I could embarrass myself further.

So much for my enchanted evening which had started so well; I had now made a complete and utter fool of myself. Despite my longing to weep in frustration, I firmly repressed the tears that demanded free rein in the wake of my utter humiliation.

Watching me closely, Edward removed his finger from my lips only when sanity seemed to return to me. At least I had won the battle against weeping, the only saving grace I had experienced since leaving the balcony.

Looking down at me with an enigmatic expression in his green eyes, Edward repeated in a voice barely above a whisper, "Are you all right?"

I nodded slowly in the affirmative.

"Did you injure yourself, Isabella?"

Shaking my head, I indicated that I was unhurt—at least physically. Well, my ribs might be slightly sore, but it was my self-respect that had been shattered this evening.

And being held in Edward's arms, his gaze steadily fixed on my face as he questioned me so earnestly, his lips so close to mine, was definitely embarrassing enough…not to mention how I came to be in this rather compromising position. Closing my eyes, I felt my face burn as I blushed deeply with shame and contrition.

"That blush," he said softly, tracing my cheekbones with his fingertips. "That blush undoes me…every time."

What could I say to that? Opening my eyes, I noted that his beautiful eyes were tender yet sad—and then I remembered why I had raced after him like a hoyden. Throughout my childhood, Mother had drilled into me lesson after lesson on the Deportment of Young Ladies. And at the top of that list was the fact that _Ladies Do Not Run_.

Now I knew why. _Blasted corsets! _

And my own renowned clumsiness, of course.

"I should not have run after you; it was a ridiculous thing to do. I am sorry." My cheeks continued to blaze beneath his fingers, but I had to apologize—for several reasons, obviously. "But I am far more sorry for—"

"No, I must apologize," Edward interrupted. "I should not have left you as I did—without an escort and obviously causing you concern. This incident is my fault entirely," he stated, his eyes anxious yet ever so slightly amused.

The humor in his gaze finally shocked me into an awareness of the extreme impropriety of his holding me so intimately: in his arms while sitting in his lap. "Will you please help me to sit up?" I asked, and, with an expression in his eyes that seemed rather like regret, he politely assisted me to a sitting position on the bench.

Despite the breath being knocked from me and the restrictions of my blasted corset to refilling my lungs properly, my breathing had calmed at last. Edward seated himself beside me, and I also noticed that he did not release my hand after assisting me. _Not that I was objecting, mind you…._

Taking as deep a breath as my corset allowed, I turned to him. "Mr. Masen, I apologize if my lack of a response a few moments ago upset you. Truly, I was so overcome that I was incapable of replying. I—"

"It is quite all right, Miss Swan," he interrupted me, returning his gaze to the lake before us and refusing to look at me once again. "I apologize for placing you in an awkward position. I should never have presumed—"

Throwing aside all the guidelines for etiquette that had been drilled incessantly into my brain since birth, I dared to interrupt a gentleman, a rude act that a true lady would never, _ever_ presume to commit.

"Look at me, Edward Masen!"

Shocked by both my words and my frustrated tone, his eyes met mine, and I gasped at the sorrow and regret in his expression. Clasping his free hand in both of mine, I continued to meet his gaze as I spoke softly. "I-I was so overcome with joy at the thought of your proposal, Mr. Masen, that I was unable to speak."

Edward blinked, seemingly incapable of believing my words.

Smiling gently, I continued, my soft voice barely audible even to me. "Nothing in the world would make me happier than your approaching my father to discuss our future marriage."

Slowly a matching smile crept across his lips as he saw the joy in my eyes.

"Truly, Miss Swan?"

"Truly, Mr. Masen."

_**Awww! Aren't they adorable! :) I hope that you're enjoying reading this sweet couple as much as I enjoyed writing them! **_

_**Thank you for your lovely response to Part I of this little tale. I enjoyed hearing from you all, and I think I responded to all reviews. Thanks also for all the follows and favorites, too—you all are wonderful! :) **_

_**Please let me know what you think of my Austen-ish Isabella and Edward! :)**_

_**Thank you for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo**_


	3. Chapter 3

**PART III**

Raising my gloved hand to his lips while keeping his gaze focused on mine, Edward pressed a kiss to the back of my hand, causing me to blush, my cheeks burning.

"You have made me the happiest of men," he breathed, grinning widely. His smile was crooked and so endearing; I could only smile joyfully in return, watching him shyly from beneath my eyelashes.

Then his green eyes burned into mine, and I trembled with the power of his unstated passion. "On an additional yet related subject, I wish to ask your permission despite the fact that I have already become quite presumptuous this evening."

"Y-yes?"

"May I kiss you?" he whispered.

I nodded, blushing even more deeply.

Slowly he lowered his face, and my eyes closed as his lips brushed across mine, barely skimming. Then he pressed against my lips more firmly, moving his mouth with mine, deepening the kiss, and I gloried in our shared passion. I felt so much for this man that I could not contain it all, and I gasped in shock at the uncontrollable emotions pulsing through me.

Taking advantage of my open lips, his tongue gently entered my mouth. Although I was shocked at first by this unforeseen development, I found myself kissing him back in the next moment with all of the love I felt for this extraordinary man.

Gradually he slowed our passionate encounter, pressing gentle kisses to my lips, my jawline, and my throat. I gasped again as an unfamiliar yet strong yearning coursed through me that I had never known was possible between a man and a woman.

"We must stop now," he panted between kisses along my throat. He leaned back as I opened my eyes, and I felt that I had taken a remarkable and unbelievable journey without leaving his arms.

Watching me closely as I blinked several times in succession, trying to restore my thought processes, he grinned at me with an air of triumph.

Reaching up, I tentatively felt my swollen lips with my gloved fingers before returning his smile.

"If your father saw that kiss, he would be demanding me to marry you within the fortnight," he declared, seemingly unrepentant.

My smile disappeared at his words. _What did he mean? Did he often breach propriety in this way with other young women of society? Did he now consider me a trollop, no longer pure or worthy of his high station? Did he not wish to marry me now?_

As these muddled thoughts spun through my brain, I rose abruptly to my feet, straightening my gown and trying to restore my hair to an acceptable state in order to avoid awkward questions once I re-entered the ballroom.

Of course Edward was correct; if anyone had witnessed us in such an embrace, we would be forced to marry immediately. And obviously from his words and apparently light-hearted manner, he did not wish to marry me right now…if ever.

_Then why did he wish to ask my father if he could propose to me?_

Was he teasing me? Ridiculing me? Or perhaps he was kindly trying to soften the blow that was to come when he refused to marry me after that wanton kiss?

Perhaps he no longer considered me a lady worthy of his hand?

_I was so confused…._

I needed to get away—to think. And goodness knows that this man's proximity would only confuse me further….

"Please excuse me. I must return to the ball," I whispered. "I will be missed by my Aunt Jane…."

"Miss Swan," he pleaded, on his feet now and grasping my hand. "Please forgive me. I did not mean to offend you. Pray allow me to return you to your family."

"That would be best, Mr. Masen," I stated with all the coldness I could muster as I repressed the traitorous tears trying to escape my eyes.

I allowed him to place my hand on his arm, as propriety dictated, during our walk toward the house, golden-hued light streaming through the windows into the lovely gardens. I refused to meet his eyes although I felt his steady gaze on me. Silently we walked up the side path, well out of the lights from the house. As we approached the spiral staircase, Edward abruptly spun me around, pulling me further into the shadows.

"What have I done?" he asked urgently. "What have I said to have changed your manner so greatly? Was I too forward? Do you not think me a gentleman?"

"It was nothing you did, Mr. Masen," I whispered, trying again to repress the emotions that were too near the surface for my comfort. If he were too kind to me, I knew I would immediately dissolve into embarrassing tears; unfortunately, I often cried when I became angry or upset.

Grasping my upper arms gently in his strong hands, he sought my gaze. "I know that whatever I said or did that has offended you, it was far from 'nothing.' You were so happy, and now I can see that you are quite distressed."

Despite trying to avoid his penetrating gaze, I found it impossible; Edward was so tall that he blocked my view in almost every direction, so I bowed my head to evade his eyes, clenching my jaw with the supreme effort of willing away my tears.

"If you are still agreeable, Miss Swan," he stated formally, "I plan to write to your father tonight to request his permission to marry you."

My eyes flew to his. "You still wish to marry me?" I asked, disbelieving.

His eyebrows rushed together into a frown; he looked confused—perhaps even bewildered. "Of course I do, my dear Isabella. Nothing would give me more pleasure."

I nodded, still unsmiling. At least he did not think me wanton enough to refuse to marry me. His words about being _forced_ to marry me within a fortnight had anyone seen our kiss had made me think that he no longer wished to pursue matrimony in a timely basis with me.

Edward bent closer to me, his lips at my ear. "Unless you would allow me to kiss you again, that is," he whispered, then leaned back to observe my face.

Blushing furiously, I shook my head, but I watched his eyes darken to a deep charcoal green as he gazed at me. "I do not believe that would be a wise plan," I ventured shyly.

"And why is that?" His tone was amused, and I suddenly felt as if we were playing a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse in which he was a very skilled cat who knew exactly what he wanted…and I was a hapless victim, neatly trapped by a most effective predator.

My eyes sought his earnestly. "I would never wish you to be _forced_ into anything you may deem unpleasant," I murmured, half-hoping he did not hear me. "Especially when the happiness of the rest of your life is at stake."

As I glanced up at him, the anger in his beautiful eyes showed that he had indeed heard every word.

"So _that_ is the problem?" he asked brusquely. "You were under the impression that if we were caught, I would be _forced_ to marry you immediately?"

Reluctantly I nodded.

"In that case, I shall kiss you again immediately—and continue to do so—until we are captured in the act by your aunt or by one of the ladies of the _ton_ so that we may be forced to marry on the morrow," he declared, smiling widely.

Shocked, I looked up into his gaze and saw such tenderness in the green eyes I loved that tears sprang to my own eyes.

"If we were forced to marry tomorrow, I would find it the greatest reason to celebrate, my Isabella," he stated fervently before lowering his voice to the softest whisper. "I have loved you since I laid eyes on you at the first ball of the Season, my dearest one. And while I am willing to wait forever for you, I would be overjoyed to have you as my wife immediately. The mere thought of you becoming mine—in every way—brings me…" he took a deep breath, his glance so gentle, "unspeakable happiness." As his voice broke over his celebratory words, I saw the most loving expression in his eyes.

And I could hold back no longer; I flung my arms around his neck, throwing myself into his arms which quickly encircled me in a joyous embrace. As my ear rested against his flying heart, I sighed in utter contentment.

Here was where I would remain, forever…in the arms of my beloved Edward….

A few moments later, he reluctantly released me as such an embrace should never take place in public if I wished to maintain my virtuous reputation in society. But being this close to Edward was simply irresistible….

"I shall write your father tonight by special post and hope to hear news of his permission very shortly," he promised me, pressing his warm lips against my forehead in a sweet demonstration of his feelings for me.

"Father likes you, Mr. Masen. Very much. You will not find any obstacles to our union from my father."

"Thank God," Edward exhaled against my forehead, his body relaxing against mine. "Yet until I have his letter of permission in my hand, I refuse to presume that we are yet engaged to be married."

"Very well," I sighed. "But I believe that you are acting overly-cautiously, my dear Mr. Masen."

"Darling Isabella?"

"Yes?"

"Since we are so very nearly engaged, would you honor me by using my Christian name?"

I looked up into his face, delighting in the barely-restrained joy sparkling in his usually calm green eyes.

"Yes, Edward—if you wish it."

"I wish it," he smiled, and I squeezed his hand gently in bliss. Words could not express the happiness I saw burning in his gaze and which I was certain shone in my eyes as well.

"I call you 'Edward' in my thoughts," I confessed softly, and his smile widened in response as he bent his head to kiss me once again….

_**Please let me know what you think about this little story; I so enjoyed writing it for all of you! :) **_

_**I have so enjoyed responding to your lovely reviews! The next chapter will be up this weekend. **_

_**Thank you for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo**_


	4. Chapter 4

**PART IV**

Moments later, Edward and I unobtrusively re-entered into the ballroom side-by-side to join in conversation with Edward's closest friend, Jasper, Lord Whitlock, and his lovely wife, Lady Alice. Both were very pleasant to me, greeting me graciously, and I noticed Lord Whitlock's amused glances directed at Edward—which Edward returned with obvious happiness as he surreptitiously squeezed my hand.

I had a feeling that Lady Alice and I would become good friends if Edward and I were to become engaged as now seemed inevitable. As the gentlemen discussed a new proposal making its way through the House of Lords, Lady Alice drew me slightly away from Edward and Lord Jasper.

"I believe that you will make our Edward very happy, Miss Swan," she whispered, a bright smile lighting her piquant face. While Lady Alice wore the latest fashions, she graced her lovely ice-blue gown and pearl-and-diamond jewels in an understated way that emphasized her shining raven curls and perfect complexion rather than drawing attention to her expensive clothing and jewelry alone.

I returned her smile rather tremulously. "Thank you, Lady Whitlock. I certainly hope to do so."

"And we shall also become good friends. After all, with our husbands as political allies, we shall spend a great deal of time together."

I blushed as Lady Alice referred to Edward as my "husband" already—as if our marriage were a foregone conclusion. "I look forward to knowing you better, Lady Whitlock." I bowed my head slightly as courtesy dictated, but Lady Alice wasn't having such formality. Immediately she insisted on my addressing her as "Lady Alice," and in return I requested that she call me by my first name.

Our short conversation seemed to be the first of many _tête-à-têtes_ that Lady Alice and I would share. Exchanging warm smiles, we edged back toward the two gentlemen who were still engrossed in an earnest political discussion. Despite the depth of their conversation, Edward seemed immediately aware of my presence, his loving glance warming my cheeks into a blush as I returned to his side.

But too soon a very familiar voice hissed in my ear, and I turned away from Edward to see my Aunt Jane, known as Lady Carville to the cream of London society, at my elbow. My father's sister had married to a weak man who, although titled, had gambled away the majority of his financial worth; as a result of her straightened circumstances, my aunt had become a rather bitter woman. For some reason, despite the fact that she had immediately agreed to sponsoring my debut in society, she usually addressed me with the merest requirements of civility, just enough to retain my father's good will and her reputation amongst the _ton_.

My father had requested his sister to escort me through my first London Season as he remained heartbroken over my mother's death two years previously. In addition, he definitely preferred our modest country estate in Kent over the crowds, parties, and sooty fogs of London; this evening's activities would have been the height of torture for him. With alacrity, Lady Carville had accepted the responsibility of my "coming out" in society, but not because she loved (or even liked) me, her niece. Rather, she had agreed to the onerous task of guiding my societal debut because my doting father amply supplied her with gowns and everything else that she insisted was necessary in order to escort me to all of the best parties, theatres, balls, and outings. Although she treated me well in his presence, her dislike, albeit unspoken, became clear in her manner and tone of voice when we were alone.

Although I greatly missed the affectionate and loving ways of my mother and had hoped to find another motherly figure in the childless aunt whom I had never known well, I had quickly recognized that I had no choice but to bear my aunt's dislike if I wanted to enjoy a Season in London, so I said nothing of my aunt's cold and calculating ways to my father.

From the very moment of my arrival in London, Aunt Jane had drilled into me that it was my responsibility to employ my "feminine charms" to marry very well—to a man of both respected title and immense wealth—in order to advance our family's reputation which had been tarnished by Lord Carville's gambling debts. Quite early in the Season, I had realized that I was a mere pawn in my Aunt Jane's game of societal chess, and that this pawn was supposed to trap herself a king—or rather a wealthy, titled gentleman.

"Isabella," the stage whisper in my ear continued; the excitement in her eyes and the broad smile on her face worried me. Whenever my aunt behaved in such a manner, it usually indicated that she had found an especially eligible young man—"eligible" meaning either extremely wealthy or extremely well-connected in society…and preferably both.

And I was correct.

Rudely nudging Edward aside—despite his ancient family and wealth, his lack of title did not place him at the top of her list of eligible young gentlemen this Season—Aunt Jane grasped my arm and tugged me away with only the coolest of excuses to Edward and slightly more ingratiating apologies to Lord and Lady Whitlock. Dragging me into the relative privacy of a nearby alcove, Aunt Jane whispered rapidly, "Isabella, I have secured Lord Newton for you to dance the next set. He is the only son and heir to the Duke of Chicester, and he is most interested in furthering an acquaintance with you. Come allow me to introduce you to him."

Gripping my arm with such excitement that I was certain I would find bruises the next day, she dragged me over to a rather thickly-built young man with blond hair and pale blue eyes. Dressed foppishly in the very latest fashions, he was looking over the bevy of young ladies gathered at the ball as if they were horseflesh to be evaluated and purchased, rather than human beings with opinions and feelings.

However, I was quite aware that Edward had followed in our wake and joined our little group just as my aunt began her introductions.

"Lord Newton, may I introduce the Honorable Isabella Swan? Isabella, I present Michael, Lord Newton." Aunt Jane pointedly ignored Edward who tried to look amused, but I could see the anger toward my aunt bubbling just below the surface.

As civility required, I curtseyed in response to Lord Newton's bow, noting that as I straightened my back, his eyes were decidedly fixed on the décolleté of my gown—which embarrassed me into a deep blush.

A sound at my elbow surprised me; I could have sworn that I heard Edward growling in response to the man's behavior. Chancing a quick glance sideways, I saw that Edward was positively glowering at Lord Newton.

Yet Lord Newton seemed completely oblivious to Edward's presence, his eyes still agog over my neckline. "My dear Miss Swan, may I have the honor of this dance?" he asked, extending a rather pudgy hand.

My gloved hand meeting his, I barely managed to stifle a shiver of revulsion, yet the social niceties must be observed, especially at the most important ball of the entire Season.

In addition to his refusal to leave during the introductions—which was the height of rude behavior—Edward's eyes implored me not to accept Lord Newton's invitation to dance. Although I had never seen Edward acting possessively in the past, I trusted him implicitly; therefore, he must have an excellent reason for his highly unusual behavior. Despite my habitual obedience to my aunt's directives, I ignored her wishes as I pulled back from Lord Newton's proprietary grasp of my hand with an apology and the weak excuse of a headache for my refusal to dance.

Of course, Aunt Jane was angered by my obvious subterfuge as she gripped my upper arm so tightly that I felt her fingernails digging into my flesh through the thick satin layers of my sleeve. "Would you excuse us for just a moment, Lord Newton?" she smiled, ignoring Edward's presence. "I need a quick word with Isabella, and then she shall be _all_ yours."

I could not help but notice Edward wincing at my aunt's deliberately provoking words, but I had no choice but to acquiesce to her demands as Aunt Jane whisked me around a corner and into an empty hallway.

"What do you think you are doing, Isabella?" Her eyes were cold, her expression nearly livid.

"I-I just do not feel comfortable dancing with Lord Newton," I whispered, admitting only part of the truth as I lowered my eyes. He made my stomach turn, but it was Edward's reaction that caused me to rebel, albeit politely, against Aunt Jane's unsubtle plotting.

"You silly girl! I heard from Lady Stanley that Lord Newton has an income of twelve thousand pounds per year! He's extremely wealthy and will provide handsomely for you." She tossed her perfectly-coiffed blonde head as her voice quickened with excitement. "Plus, with Lord Newton being the heir to the Duke of Chicester, Lord Newton will inherit the title someday—and with his father in failing health, it could be quite soon. And then you would be the Duchess of Chicester. Imagine!"

However, I think it was Aunt Jane imagining the triumph that would be hers amongst her social acquaintances in marrying me off to such an eligible man, despite the fact that he was obviously insufferable. Ignoring my stubborn expression, my aunt took a breath to calm herself slightly before continuing, "Lord Newton has twice the income plus the chance of an ancient and revered title which makes him a far better match than young Mr. Masen. Therefore, young miss, you are to dance with the better man and do everything possible to secure him."

My stomach lurched at the crassness of my aunt's scolding—and at her judgment against Edward. Throughout the Season, she had been erecting obstacle after obstacle to my possible union with Edward, and for the most part, I had been silent and compliant. But now that I knew Edward's heart and his intention to write my father to request my hand in marriage, I was going to stand up to my aunt for the first time.

"You want me to 'secure' him? You must be insane. Besides, is it not my father's decision—as well as mine—as to whom I shall 'secure'?" I asked rather boldly despite the quaver in my voice.

"Your father is absolutely unworldly in these matters," Aunt Jane scoffed. "Charles would let you marry the gatekeeper if he thought you would be happy. I mean, look at his own marriage—"

"Do not speak in that way about my mother!" I exclaimed, nearly shaking with anger.

Aunt Jane's hurried hushing reminded me that although we were in a deserted hallway, we were still in public, so I lowered my voice. "My parents were extremely happy together, and Father is still so devastated…." At the memory of my father's habitually saddened expression and extremely rare smiles even two years after my mother's death, I had to pause, swallowing hard to suppress my tears.

My aunt took advantage of my pause. "But she brought nothing to our family—no money, no prestige—"

"Those matters are of no importance!" I whisper-yelled. "My father desires me to make a love match, and I shall. And he quite approves of Ed—of Mr. Masen." Involuntarily I glanced toward Edward who remained in the company of Lord Newton who chattered at him without noticing Edward's taciturn replies or barely-contained anger.

Yet even in such an unusually stressed state with his face set in hard lines, Edward Masen was absolutely stunning—and he was such a good, upright man. Father adored him already….

"Well, at least dance with Lord Newton! You cannot dance with Masen all night without creating a scandal, so since you must dance with others…" Aunt Jane reminded me of my obligations with a very French shrug of her shoulders, apparently deciding to retreat for the moment.

Perhaps my unusually passionate response unnerved her.

I sighed, trying to be conciliatory; after all, my aunt had taken on a great responsibility in escorting me through my first Season. "Very well, I shall dance with Lord Newton only this once, but I do not appreciate the manner in which his lordship ogles my bosom."

"Be glad that he is showing interest in you at all!" Aunt Jane replied crassly.

I gasped, horrified, as she continued, "Smile now—stop looking like a sourpuss! I am not escorting you to all of these parties for my own health. I am merely trying to advance our family through an advantageous alliance. It's your duty to marry well, and I feel responsible—"

"Do you want me to dance with Lord Newton, or are you going to continue lecturing me all evening?" I interrupted rudely, twisting out of her grip and leaving her behind as I returned to the French doors where Lord Newton and my Edward waited.

My timing was, unfortunately, perfect; the dance that Lord Newton had requested of me when he first approached us had just finished, and another set was forming.

With a smile that gave me the shivers (and not in a good way!), Lord Newton took my hand and escorted me to the dance floor. Fortunately, the music was a country dance which required little contact with my partner, a fact which caused me to sigh in relief. Perhaps this set of dances would not be so catastrophic after all….

_**Aunt Jane is a piece of work, isn't she? But perhaps her opinion of our Edward will change as the story progresses…we shall see. ;)**_

_**I so enjoyed your lovely comments on previous chapters, and I've been able to respond to every review so far, I believe. **_

_**I added quite a bit to this chapter from the Original Fiction version on Wattpad, and I moved part of this chapter into Part V which is rather short and for which I will definitely write additional material.**_

_**I hope you're enjoying this little bit o' fluff! Please let me know what you think! **_

_**Thank you kindly for reading!**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo**_


	5. Chapter 5

**PART V**

Once Lord Newton and I had promenaded between the rows of couples, he took my hand and spun me, as the dance required. But before he released me to my half of the male/female rows of dancers facing each other, he pressed his lips to the back of my glove—which was _not_ part of the dance in the least.

I glanced quickly over my shoulder to see if Aunt Jane had witnessed this liberty, but she was deeply in conversation with one of her many friends, most likely sharing the latest gossip. But I happened to catch Edward's eye as he remained exactly where I had left him, near the French doors leading to the balcony, standing alone with his arms folded across his chest. His stony expression as he glared at Lord Newton was almost frightening in its intensity, but then the dance required me to move out of Edward's line of sight.

But the next time the dance brought my partner and I back together, Lord Newton openly leered at me, and his eyes were far more often fixed on the neckline of my gown than on my face—which was simply inexcusable and extremely embarrassing.

I could only hope that he had partaken of too many cups of the strong negus wine drink being served, but even being intoxicated was hardly an excuse for his abominable behavior, title or no title.

However, when the first dance ended, Lord Newton tried to persuade me to leave the dance floor and walk about the gardens rather than remaining in "this damned hot ballroom," claiming that "one cannot speak here in any comfort."

"But Lord Newton," I forced myself to smile as naturally as I was capable. "I so love to dance, and I would not wish to cease when I am engaged to dance with such a superior partner, sir." Yes, I was stretching the truth, but I did not want to spend a single moment alone with this man who was not behaving as a gentleman should.

Not quite convinced by my obvious flattery, but not having much choice, Lord Newton reluctantly returned us to the dance floor where we were engaged for the remainder of the set of dances.

However, I was soon regretting my request to extend our dancing when Lord Newton's hands started to become too familiar with my person. But when his palm moved down the back of my dress to just below the sash, caressing my derriere rather than the small of my back—which was an ungentlemanly manner of conduct in private, much less at a highly public ball.

But how to escape this man's rude clutches without making a scene?

Frantically my eyes sought and found Edward's, and I gazed beseechingly at the one man whom I was assured would come to my assistance with the discernment that would extricate me from Lord Newton without creating a kerfuffle.

So from across the ballroom, my eyes pleaded with him to rescue me from my uncouth partner.

Immediately catching onto my silent request, he quickly excused himself from the friends who had gathered around him during my dance and efficiently crossed the dance floor, striding purposefully to my side.

"May I cut in?" Mr. Edward Masen requested my partner politely, his smile grim, his green eyes blazing stormily as they met the surprised gaze of Lord Newton.

Despite the social convention that demanded that Lord Newton release me to my new partner, he only pulled me closer—much closer than societal rules permitted—as he growled, "Get your own damned partner, Masen."

"I am attempting to do so," Edward stated, his voice softly menacing. "You are required to yield in this instance, my lord."

"We're rather delightfully occupied at the moment, so wait your turn," smirked Lord Newton.

That smirk did it. My temper flared, and I brought down my narrow high heel onto Lord Newton's instep with as much force as I could, causing him to gasp in pain, release me, and halt the figure of the dance, causing quite the commotion as the other dancers were forced to maneuver around us.

Taking advantage of my act of painful and deliberate distraction, Edward whisked me out of the boorish man's arms, rapidly dancing with me to the far side of the ballroom where we both watched Lord Newton, obviously aggrieved, limp down a hallway and out of sight.

Glancing up at Edward, I giggled but abruptly stopped when I saw his murderous expression. "What is it?" I asked. "Why are you upset? We are now dancing together, far from Lord Newton, so—"

Edward interrupted me, his tone clipped. "Newton man-handled you, disrespected your person, and then refused to allow you to escape him. You were forced to injure him in order to escape while I could do nothing to assist you without creating a scene," he answered, his green eyes burning blackly with the depth of his emotion. "The fact that you were forced to take such action galls me to no end."

My eyebrows rose at these words. "So because I managed my own escape from an insufferable man, you are angry with me?"

Edward sighed, resigned. "No, I am not angry with you, my darling. But Newton had best keep his distance tonight unless he would prefer to meet me at dawn—with either swords or pistols, his choice."

The color drained from my face, and I shivered at the barely-restrained violence of his words, tone, and intention. "Please, Edward. Please do not call out Lord Newton over me. Not only is dueling illegal, but I could not bear it if you were incarcerated, or injured, or—_worse_—because of me. If anything happened to you—"

Spinning me again as the dance required, his jaw was clenched, his eyes bleak. With a quiet groan of acquiescence, he replied, "I give you my word as a gentleman, Isabella. If he keeps his distance, Newton has nothing to fear from me. But if he dares to approach you again, all agreements are void. Is that clear?"

I sighed with relief. "Thank you, Edward."

He sighed as well. "I will ask Jasper to advise Newton of the arrangement—as proposed by the woman whom I shall wed as soon as the banns are read in church."

The dance steps separated us for a few moments, and then I returned to Edward's arms, feeling safe and protected…yet not stifled. Edward had listened to me—truly listened—which I felt boded quite well for our future marriage.

As he twirled me, I caught a glimpse of my aunt's furious expression as Lord Newton reappeared beside her, apparently informing her of our actions. I rolled my eyes in exasperation as I reported the current developments to Edward.

As Edward led me through the complicated steps beautifully, I gloried in the safety and joy of being supported by his strong arms. Unfortunately, the dance with Edward had to come to an end sometime, and I reluctantly curtsied to my superior partner as the orchestra drew out the closing notes.

"Time to face the music," Edward whispered in my ear as he escorted me back to a fuming Aunt Jane as propriety dictated. Fortunately, Lord Newton was nowhere in sight at this time, and Edward offered Aunt Jane a cold bow that she did not deign to return.

All I could say was that the scolding I had endured was well-worth the alteration of partners and the escape from Lord Newton's overly-familiar hands, an accusation that Aunt Jane refused to believe.

"I saw no such familiarities with your person," she declared in an angry stage-whisper that still carried to the small groups of the _ton_ immediately surrounding us.

But the ball must go on, and continue it did as Aunt Jane accepted many dance invitations on my behalf.

And as was usual at balls such as this one, I danced with other eligible young men, smiling politely but remaining distant with my partners. They were pleasant-enough fellows, but they did not have green eyes or smooth auburn hair or broad shoulders or….

Simply, they were not Mr. Edward Masen, Esquire.

_**No, there simply is no one who can compare with Edward, LOL!**_

_**I'm sorry to be late posting, but between having students at my home all week as I critiqued their MLA research essays with them before the final deadline this Thursday and watching the local news as *eleven* massive fires scorched San Diego County (my brother and his family were among the 30,000 evacuees, but for once, the fires were nowhere near us up here in the mountains, the most fire-prone area of the county), it didn't even occur to me that I hadn't posted this chapter until Friday evening. So I'll post Part V now and the final chapter, Part VI, on Wednesday right before my final research essays are submitted by my co-op students. **_

_**I'll also be starting to teach my online Literary Analysis: **_**Romeo & Juliet**_** class starting Monday (5/19), so I'm going to be crazy-busy through late June with final grades for my co-op Expository Essay class, my own two homeschooled kids, and the online **_**Romeo & Juliet**_** class. So after Wednesday, you may not see much of me until late June/early July. Chapter 14 of **_**Only by Moonlight**_** requires extensive editing which I will try to do before my teaching load swallows me whole, but no guarantees, unfortunately. :(**_

_**I hope you're enjoying this story! Please let me know what you think!**_

_**Thank you for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo **_


	6. Chapter 6

**PART VI**

Several hours later, Edward approached me for another dance, a waltz this time. How he knew ahead of time which dances were to be waltzes—in which he could hold me close in his arms—was a mystery to me. I wondered if he had become friendly with the musicians just so that we remain in close proximity in a socially-acceptable manner.

Being in his arms was sheer heaven as we twirled and floated across the dance floor, gazing into each other's eyes as if the truth and beauty of all Creation were within our grasp.

Unfortunately, the waltz came to an end, and reluctantly I excused myself, seeking the powder room. Once I had returned from the elegantly-appointed room set aside for personal necessity, I walked along the richly-carpeted hallway in order to return to the ballroom. Most of the guests were in the process of thanking their hosts prior to leaving, and the footman I had noticed standing halfway down the now-deserted hallway on my way to the powder room had disappeared as well.

For some reason I could not explain, I felt unaccountably nervous. As I quickened my steps back to the ballroom, a hand shot out from a partially-open door, grabbed my arm, and dragged me unceremoniously into a strange room—a library, by the looks of it. Before I discerned what was happening, I was thrust back against a wood-paneled wall, a large hand pressed over my mouth to prevent my screaming.

"You little bitch," growled Lord Newton in my ear. His face was flushed bright red, and despite the speed and effectiveness of his attack, he seemed to be having trouble remaining balanced. His eyes were strangely unfocused, and his hot breath carried the fumes of strong brandy.

Lord Newton was quite intoxicated…yet he was not so inebriated that he could not keep me pinned quite efficiently against the wall, the raised paneling digging into my shoulder blades.

"Since you injured me—you made me bleed with that damned shoe, y' know—it seems I owe you a similar favor," he leered lopsidedly. Once again his eyes lowered to my chest—which was rising and falling rapidly with my attempts to breathe with his palm pressed hard against my mouth.

"V-very nice," he approved, moving the other ungloved hand from my waist to my modestly-cut décolletage.

My head was beginning to swim from the lack of air, but unfortunately I was all-too-aware of the heat of his hand on my breast. Due to his other hand over my face and my too-binding corset restricting my breath—_blast that thing!_—my struggles were rapidly weakening. I needed to do something—_anything_—and I needed to do it immediately…before I lost consciousness.

I could only guess what atrocities this man would visit upon my person if I fainted….

That frightening thought gave me strength as I continued to struggle against him in vain, given his superior size and weight.

But an idea occurred to me, and not taking the time to consider the possible consequences, I managed to open my jaw just enough beneath his large, clumsy hand….

And I bit down on the tender skin between his thumb and forefinger with all of my quickly-waning strength.

Cursing loudly, Lord Newton pulled his hand away from my mouth just long enough for me to scream for Edward as loudly as I could.

A blow to the side of my head cut off my scream, the force throwing me sideways onto a nearby sofa. Quickly I drew what breath I could and screamed a second time.

Once again my scream was halted as Lord Newton threw his not-inconsiderable girth on top of me, his hot mouth on mine as he kissed me. The sudden and unexpected pressure of his weight over my chest knocked the wind out of me, which, along with his smothering kisses, caused my surroundings to dim before my eyes. I fought to remain conscious as I felt his hand fumbling against my thrashing legs, seeking the hem of my skirt….

Although I was an innocent, I knew enough to realize what he was after—and, in an agony of fear, I threw my head back, breaking the sordid kiss, and tried to scream once again for Edward. But this last effort held only the strength of a whisper compared to my previous screams as I was unable to not draw sufficient air into my lungs to attain volume.

Lord Newton stopped my attempted scream with another brandy-fueled kiss that worsened my fading consciousness….

As all became hazy and dark in my sight, I glimpsed stormy green eyes blazing over Lord Newton's shoulder in the same moment as my attacker's considerable weight was abruptly removed.

Curling into a fetal position, I burst into tears of relief, vaguely aware that a number of people had burst into the room.

I became aware of someone's arms surrounding me and instinctively began fighting weakly against whoever was attempting to restrain me.

"No, no, my darling! Isabella, it is I, Edward!" a familiar voice assured me. Once I recognized his voice, I stopped struggling, throwing my arms around his neck and sobbing hysterically into his snowy cravat. "You are safe now, my dear. I have you. I have you," he crooned softly as he sought to comfort me.

"What is the meaning of this?" I heard the Earl of Allanham demand. I glanced up, expecting to see our host addressing Edward, but his narrowed gaze was fixed on my attacker.

Edward ignored his host's question, his attention fixed upon me. Pulling back for a moment, his eyes ran over me with great concern, and his gentle fingers touched my already-swelling cheekbone. "What injuries did this monster commit?" he asked me, his eyes burning into mine. "Did he…." He could not complete his sentence, but his question was clear.

Attempting to calm my sobs enough to respond, I replied in no more than a whisper for Edward's ears alone. "H-he gr-gr-grabbed me from the hallway and th-threw me against the wall and struck me when I bit him. He k-kissed me…and he…he touched…." I couldn't form the words to express the attempts the perpetrator had made to ravish me.

"No more," Edward groaned, his tone at once heartbroken and murderously angry.

"Newton?" barked the Earl. "You seem to have harmed a young lady whom belongs to another. What say you?"

"This—this is a misunderstanding, that's all," stammered Lord Newton, obviously realizing his precarious position at this point. "She…I…well…."

Edward pulled away from me for a moment. "There is no misunderstanding. If I may have a private word, Allanham?"

"Certainly, Masen. You too, Newton. It is quite late, and I want to get to the bottom of this matter and settle it quickly." Our host gently but firmly cleared the room of everyone except Edward, Lord Newton, and Aunt Jane. I had not noticed her presence until she took Edward's place, her face pale as she pulled my shaking body into her arms, for once acting like a loving aunt.

Lord Newton plopped himself none too gracefully into a wingchair as Edward stood beside the sofa where Aunt Jane held me, his back ramrod-straight and his expression murderous as I glanced at him over Aunt Jane's shoulder.

The Earl of Allanham also remained standing, his eyes fixed on me for a moment, and then on each of the others in turn. "While the young lady gathers her thoughts," he stated, kindly giving me further time to calm and hopefully become more coherent, "perhaps we can hear what Mr. Masen witnessed."

Edward's voice was perfunctory and objective as he related the most recent events of the evening. "Earlier, I was watching Lord Newton dance with Miss Swan and noticed that he was…taking liberties. I cut in to their dance to spare her further humiliation at his hands. He did not take my interference well. Moments ago, Miss Swan had excused herself to the powder room. When she did not return in a timely manner, I became concerned and was coming down the hallway in search of Miss Swan when I heard her…screaming for assistance."

His voice broke, but he quickly resumed his calm façade. Only in his tumultuous eyes were his feelings clear…love and concern for me—and unspeakable hatred toward Lord Newton.

"Was she screaming words or merely alerting others with the sound of her voice," inquired our host.

"She was calling my name," Edward confessed, the helplessness in his eyes breaking my heart. _How must he have felt when he heard me screaming for him?_

"I entered the room to find Isabella—Miss Swan—being pinned to that sofa, struggling against Lord Newton's obviously forced advances. He was—on top of her—and kissing her. He was also pulling up her dress." Edward stopped for a moment and took a deep breath before he could continue. "I forcibly removed Lord Newton from Miss Swan's person and calmed her until you and others arrived."

"I say!" objected Lord Newton, ponderously rising to his feet, his eyes unfocused and his words slurred as he pointed at me. "The-the girl's a tease. They are all t-teases, wearing gowns that show off their ass-assets and fl-flirting with a man. There is no harm in t-taking a little of what they are so freely ad-advertising, y' know—"

His garbled explanation was cut off by Edward's abrupt right hook. The Earl looked down without expression at Lord Newton…now slumped sideways in his chair, knocked out cold by the single masterful blow.

"Well, he deserved that much, Masen," the Earl agreed wryly. "I appreciate your not taking it further, at least in front of the ladies."

"The pleasure was all mine," Edward stated brusquely, returning to his former place beside the sofa.

Our host now turned his attention to me. "Are you able to tell us what happened, Miss Swan? Or would you rather continue tomorrow?"

Slowly I shook my head. "I would rather relate the events of this evening tonight while it is still fresh in my mind. Not that I will ever forget it," I added, trying to suppress a shudder. Turning slightly in my aunt's arms, I caught Edward's glance. "Please sit with me." My request was barely more than a whisper.

Wordlessly Edward joined us, sitting on my other side and grasping my hand in his large, warm one as my aunt shifted her position, keeping one arm around my shoulders and holding my other hand. Surprised both by my aunt's continued compassion and that she had not objected to Edward's taking my hand, I took a few deep breaths to steady my nerves before relating the events of tonight involving Lord Newton. My account added further detail to Edward's story, but my voice was shaking and barely audible by the time I finished. The only way I had been able to relate what happened at all was because of Edward; I drew strength from his touch and his love for me.

The Earl of Allanham looked grim as I finishing describing tonight's events. "Very well. Thank you, Mr. Masen, Miss Swan. I suppose that I shall need to call the constable…unless you intend to call him out, Masen?"

"No!" I cried, wrenching myself from my aunt's arms to face Edward, grasping his hands with both of my own. "I cannot lose you! You must not! Edward, please!"

"No constable will be necessary, Allanham," Edward stated smoothly; the Earl nodded and rang the bell, directing the footman who answered his summons to gather additional manservants to remove the unconscious man from the premises.

And with a polite bow, our host excused himself to bid his remaining guests a good evening, wisely giving the three of us much-needed privacy while ignoring the unconscious scoundrel slumped in the nearby armchair.

However, Edward's words had evoked a terrified gasp from me, and I began to tremble with fear—for if Edward was not to call for the constable, it must mean that he was planning to challenge Lord Newton to a duel.

_ And I could lose him. _

_ Forever. _

However, Edward turned to me and raised both of my hands to his lips, kissing the back of first one, then the other. "Neither will I call him out, darling," he assured me. "I shall simply speak to him, gentleman to, er—gentleman, to make certain that he will never approach you again." He smiled grimly. "I am well-known as a crack shot as well as an accomplished swordsman, so I seriously doubt that Newton would have a chance against me in a duel; in fact, I would wager that he would refuse to show up, coward that he is. But I pledge to you that I shall make my demands clear to him without endangering myself." He leaned closer to me, whispering huskily in my ear, "As you cannot lose me, I cannot lose you, my dearest Isabella."

I could sense Aunt Jane, who still sat close beside me on the sofa, dropping her jaw in shock at Edward's words. Apparently Edward also sensed her confusion; he stood and moved to stand before her.

"Lady Carville, I will be writing Mr. Swan this evening to ask permission to marry his daughter. Although I have not yet formally proposed, Isabella has indicated that such an inquiry is in accordance with her wishes for the future. So while in society, I will remain as one of several suitors until her father's permission and Isabella's hand have been won. Yet in private, Isabella and I shall assume the roles of an affianced couple."

Aunt Jane, despite her surprise and shock at the evening's occurrences, gracefully got to her feet and faced Edward with an enigmatic expression on her face.

"Mr. Masen, I thank you for your assistance with my niece this evening. I do not wish to consider what may have happened to Isabella if you had not intervened. However, I will await my brother's directions regarding Isabella's future before allowing her to assume the position of an affianced young woman, in private as well as in public. If you are writing tonight by special post, you should hear from Mr. Swan by the day after next. I shall also write my brother, relating the events of tonight so that he will have all possible information as he makes his decision regarding his daughter's future. I believe that you and Isabella can manage to act circumspectly for a day or two until your engagement is approved and announced—if it is approved, that is."

She gave Edward a grim smile. "While I had higher hopes for Isabella's marriage prospects, I can discern that you and she are sincerely attached…which will please my brother greatly. He wishes a love match for his daughter, and after your words and actions tonight, I am assured that you will care for her as no other man would."

"Thank you, Lady Carville," Edward responded softly. "I will abide by your wishes and restrictions, difficult though they may be." He shot me a rueful smile which I returned tremulously.

A knock sounded at the library door, and Edward opened it to allow in several manservants who, with difficulty, carried the limp form of Lord Newton out of the room. As they left, Edward turned toward my aunt and myself. "Ladies, may I escort you to the foyer to await your carriage?"

"Thank you, Mr. Masen," stated Aunt Jane, taking his proffered arm as I rose somewhat unsteadily to support myself on his other arm. I was quite glad to leave the library—and Allanham House—behind me this evening. Edward smiled down on me as I grasped his arm, and once again I drew on his gentle strength to sustain me.

After assuring our hosts of my well-being as we offered our thanks for the evening's festivities and wished them well, Edward escorted us outdoors and down the marble steps of the majestic Allanham townhouse. He seemed as pleased to leave the place behind as I was.

With the promise of Edward's proposal and my father's permission, along with my aunt's reluctant approval, my heart was light despite the frightening events I had experienced tonight. As Edward helped first my aunt and then me into our waiting carriage, he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand, his green eyes and smiling lips full of promises of a joyous future ahead for us.

_**Well, here we are! Or rather, here I *thought* I would be ending this little tale, but Motherof8 has requested an epilogue, and I believe she's quite right. We need a little more closure for our Gentleman Edward and Lady Isabella, and a glimpse into their future will finish this little story nicely. I will post it this weekend. :)**_

_**Thank you so much for reading! I so appreciate every one of you and your kind support! And thank you for your lovely reviews; I have enjoyed replying to each and every one of them! :)**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Part VII Epilogue**_

_**As requested by Motherof8…**_

Three years later….

_Dearest Aunt Jane,_

_ I thank you for your letter earlier this week. Time seems to literally take wing nowadays, and I rarely have adequate time to keep up my correspondence. I gladly welcome you home from your three months' wedding travels in France and thank you for the beautiful lace from Paris that you sent for Elizabeth's christening bonnet. _

_ Edward and I have decided to hold Elizabeth Anne's christening ceremony during Christmastide so that you and my new uncle may attend when you travel to Brandon Abbey for the holy days. Young William is extremely excited about the Christmas festivities now that he is nearly two years of age; I believe that Cook has been slipping him Yuletide sweets to encourage this new enthusiasm. I love how this house, large though it is, takes on the most amazing scent of spices and the happy suspense of Christmas secrets at this time of year. _

_ Speaking of Young Master William, Nurse Milsom, whom you recommended to us, is a dream; I cannot thank you enough for finding her for us in London before your nuptials. Nursie completely understands my need to spend several hours each day in the nursery with the children, very unlike our previous nurse who openly resented my encroaching upon "her territory" so frequently. I simply cannot understand how some mothers in London do not wish to see their children above a formal quarter-hour visit per week—and the fathers see their children often less than that! I could never be content if I did not play and cuddle with my babies for an extended time each day. _

_ My father will also travel to Yorkshire for the holy days although he dislikes leaving the relative warmth of Kent. But at least the air here in the North is fresh and untinged by the smoke and smuts of London and other large cities which Father detests, as well you know. Brandon is such a sweet village, and Brandon Abbey boasts many fine walking paths in the Park that surrounds the gardens. Edward encourages me to walk daily, as the weather permits, now that my lying-in after Elizabeth's birth is completed, for he claims that too many hours inside—during my lying-in and afterward in the nursery enjoying my babies—has taken the blush from my cheeks. He does worry so! But I do adore a nice walk, and on particularly fine days, Nursie and I take the children out to enjoy the sunshine along the paths closest to the house, one of us carrying a well-bundled Baby Elizabeth while the other walks with (or rather chases after) William. Edward approves when he sees me return from the Park, windblown and rosy._

_ As you know, Edward is still overly-solicitous regarding my health since Elizabeth's birth. His parents were here, of course, and they insisted once again on a London doctor along with my choice of Mrs. Hale, the local midwife, but Elizabeth's birth was long and difficult despite all precautions. And once I had delivered my child, the complications that arose immediately afterward—the severe __hemorrhaging__ followed by the delirium due to childbed fever—frightened him greatly. I remember little of the first ten days of Elizabeth's life as I fought to maintain my own. When I finally returned to myself, I shall never forget Edward's joyous relief when I finally knew him—the only time I have ever seen him weep. His mother told me that he rarely left my side throughout the se'nnight of my illness. So I allow him to spoil me and monitor my health with the utmost care, for doing so brings him comfort, and I want nothing more than my husband and my children's happiness. _

_ As I wrote above, my father may prefer Kent, but he has confessed to enjoying his visits to Brandon Abbey. Even he admits that our home, ancient though it may be, has been improved wonderfully and has scarcely any drafts—which is quite rare for so large an edifice. Edward has worked very hard in improving both the house and the lands since our marriage as he wishes myself and the children to be comfortable and happy here—and we are very much so. _

_ You yourself know, dear Aunt, that I was a little unsure of moving so far North when Edward proposed marriage, but my loving husband does everything for my comfort and enjoyment, and I could never imagine spending my life with another. I never knew true happiness until I joined my life to that of my dearest Edward; he is my heart—as I am his. I must confess that his every glance still gives me shivers—of the best sort, of course! Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life, with the exception of the days of birth of little William and now Baby Elizabeth._

_ And I am nearly as happy for you, for after Uncle Carville's untimely death following my engagement to Edward, your remarriage to a truly good and kind man in Robert, Earl of Southey—and a love match at that!—has done much to strengthen our ties to you. I now look upon you as another mother, and I am so very thankful that our relationship as aunt and niece has warmed so these past three years. I rejoice greatly in your newly-wedded happiness; attending your lovely nuptials in London was indeed more than a pleasure. _

_ On a more serious subject, I thank you for the news of Lord Newton. We should have known that he would flee the country once his attack upon my person occurred, and over the years we have heard reports of his living in various capitals of Europe. But now knowing that he has emigrated to America with barely a penny in his pocket gives me no little satisfaction. If I had been forced into his company in London, I am not certain that I could restrain Edward from seeking him out and causing him serious injury—once again. _

_ We shall be a merry party this Christmastide, for in addition to you and Uncle Robert and Father, Edward's parents—Sir Carlisle and his lovely wife Esme—both now my parents also, shall be joining us, along with Edward's elder brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie who expects to be confined soon after the holy days in order to give birth to their first child. My heart goes out to them, for after so many miscarriages and a stillbirth, they have been disappointed again and again in becoming parents, so I beg you to continue in prayer for a healthy child for them. _

_ Edward's good friends, Lord and Lady Whitlock, and their two children, Catherine and Alexander, will be joining us this Christmastide as well, so we shall be quite the busy household. I have asked Nursie if she shall require more help in the nursery with the addition of two more children, and she has requested the assistance of a young nursery maid. But Nursie also she said that she looks forward to "more wee bairns to love on" with the addition of the Whitlock children. As I said before, dear Aunt, she is perfection! _

_ William will be wanting his tea momentarily, so I must stop writing. Edward, as always, shall make certain that he is home from estate business in time to enjoy tea with our children. After tea, my husband insists on a wrestling match with our son, stating that a boy is never too young to win against his father. Watching them romp together as I cuddle Baby Elizabeth is one of the joys of my day. _

_ I wish you all health and happiness, dearest Aunt Jane, and look forward to seeing you and my new Uncle Robert in a fortnight. _

_With much love from your niece,_

_Isabella Masen _

_The End_

_**I hope that you all have enjoyed this little tale. It's just one of those pieces of writing that took over and cried to be its own story. The whole time I was writing the dream sequence as part of **_**Only by Moonlight, **_**I struggled to keep it in the 20**__**th**__** century while I "saw" it occurring during the Regency time period. So really, it's a relief to finally place this story in the setting it has wisely demanded all along. :)**_

_**And thank you to Motherof8 who mentioned wanting to see a baby in the epilogue; I gave her not one but two! I could just envision Isabella as she wrote her now happily-married Aunt Jane, her dark head bent over her letter as she dips her pen into the inkwell every few words. (I love writing by candlelight with a brass-nibbed pen and a bottle of ink—it's amazing how much plot-planning one can do while dipping the pen into the ink every few moments! I am quite convinced that I was born in the wrong century—just so you know.) **_

_**Thank you so much for reading my wee tale and for your wonderful reviews; you have encouraged me so greatly—and just when I needed it the most!**_

_**Now it's back to grading final research essays for me; I did manage to prepare the next week's assignments for my online **_**Romeo and Juliet **_**class before giving this epilogue a final polish! ;)**_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_

_**xxxooo**_


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